


Adventure Time

by happierhere



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happierhere/pseuds/happierhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Missy never gave Clara the Doctor's number?<br/>Would she still go on adventures? </p>
<p>Just for fun :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventure Time

Clara sipped her tea. She looked forward to a relaxing night on her coach and planned to reread ‘Pride and Prejudice’ for the umpteenth time. Seriously, why her students nagged about having to read Jane Austen she would never understand. She simply adored the writer. 

Elizabeth Bennet had hardly met Mr. Darcy when the doorbell rang. With a sigh, she carefully deposited her book on the coffee table. She hoped it was some salesperson she could just ignore. 

No such luck. Through the spyhole she spotted a woman with wild curly hair who simply waved at her and said: “Hello, sweetie!” 

Had she seen her, Clara wondered? She opened the door, not wanting to be rude. Well, not ruder than necessary. If the woman started talking about vacuum cleaners – or worse religion – she would get this door in her face. 

“Are you the adventurous Oswin?” 

Clara’s cheeks reddened. She suddenly wished for the ground to swallow her whole. A few weeks ago, she had been bored out of her mind and had taken out an ad. She had used her middle name and had simply requested an adventure. 

Most people’s ideas of adventure were quite different than her own…   
Kinkier mostly. 

She was glad she never had to meet any of the writers. Some stories, she simply did not want to put a face to! 

But…

“How did you find me?” All letters had been sent to a P.O.-box in her name. 

“Brilliantly,” the woman simply answered, before changing the subject with a radiant smile Clara couldn’t help responding to with an own grin. 

“My name is River. And that,” River lazily pointed behind her, towards a vintage red Mustang convertible, “is my new ride. I’d love to bring you along for an adventure...” 

She shouldn’t, Clara told herself. She really shouldn’t. 

This woman was probably an axe-murderer. Or worse.   
She was going to get hurt. Or worse. 

She should just say no, close the door and finish her book.   
But somehow Jane Austen’s 18th century adventures no longer called to her. 

“Can I drive?”


End file.
